


Deep Blue Sea

by ElizabethLucy



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22500862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizabethLucy/pseuds/ElizabethLucy
Summary: Snippets of Zelda and Faustus, AUAlso, I received several tumblr prompts about Zelda discovering Faustus has curly hair, like Richard does. I’ve included that here. Xx
Relationships: Faustus Blackwood/Zelda Spellman
Comments: 30
Kudos: 99





	Deep Blue Sea

He’s looking at her hand in his. She’s seemingly ageless but time passes slowly and fast all at once. Her hands haven’t changed much in all of the years he’s known her. She started painting her nails somewhere in there, he can’t pinpoint the exact moment. He guesses he wasn’t there for it. He remembers her hands in all of the large moments between them, though, and some of the small moments too.

—

He remembers chasing her down with glee at the cliff by the ocean. It had been their spot for years, a place to study, to read, to be together, away from prying eyes, and their families. It felt like theirs alone. He didn’t question why they never ran into anyone else there but now he suspects she put an avoiding spell on it for anyone but them. She always had a head for details.

He smiles as he remembers her running as fast as she could towards the edge of the cliff, and watching her arms go out to her sides as though they were wings and she would fly. Instead, she had a daredevil habit of running off of the cliff, and teleporting directly to the beach, with a wide grin on her face.

At some point he stopped finding it exhilarating to watch her, but instead concerned as to her landing. She, of course, was talented and would always land, and delicately so — her footprints barely making a mark upon the sand. But there was a moment he watched her do it, as they both had done — he had always followed after, for an innumerable time that he found his chest constricting at the thought of losing her. It surprised him how much he cared, how much he loved her. It was surprising that in such a small amount of time did she take up such a large part of his heart.

—

The beach below the cliff, and the sea stretched out before it, was theirs alone and he remembers her handprints in the sand, pressed alongside their initials as if claiming it forever theirs. Her hands would tear off her dress and undergarments quickly, and wade into the cold Atlantic as if it affected her not. He had always followed suit.

He remembers her glee as he came up for air that first time. She smiled at him from ear to ear. “What?” He asked.

“Your hair,” she remarked, and swam to him so she could glide her fingers through his curls. 

He had forgotten that the ocean, just like any other water, erased enchantments and glamours.  
His curls were his least favorite thing about his appearance, and he had been careful to hide them for years. But at her hands gliding through his hair, and her smile, he found he didn’t mind sharing his secret with her.

No glamours fell away on Zelda, for she had none. He wishes he would have been surprised in the least, but she was just as beautiful as she appeared to be. He smirked back at her, finding it unfair that someone so perfect existed.

—

More time passed, more time at the cliff, the beach, and the ocean. Faustus quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing, as she only walked to the edge of the cliff, and took the stairs down. She didn’t sprint and jump as fast as she could, and the breath he didn’t realize he was holding was expelled from his lungs in a sigh of relief. Maybe their youth was over.

She swam to him and smiled, her hands automatically running through his hair, as they always did in the water. She slipped her hand in his to return to the shore once more — the sun was setting. As they walked and the water uncovered them, did he see that this time a glamour had in fact fallen away. It was hard to miss the gentle curve of her stomach, and her face smiling at his, and her hand holding his to her stomach. “Maybe the baby will have your hair.” He smiled stupidly at her, never feeling happier than he had in this moment.

—

They exchanged rings quickly after, not wanting to wait to be married, Faustus surprised that despite everything, despite the baby on the way, that Zelda would tie herself to him in such a formal way. Faustus was pleased to slip a delicate band onto her finger next to the engagement ring. Her hand in his felt so delicate, her skin so pale against his. He smiled down at them. The families had not been pleased as to the reason of the quick wedding but soon realized that baby or no, they would have married. Edward, however, carried around his disdain for the situation openly. 

—

He’s not sure what sticks with him most, all of it? Was it her sobbing and screaming his name? Or was is there blood blooming red into the white cotton sheets of their marital bed? Her hands grabbing at her nightgown and the sheets? Hilda was summoned and confirmed what they deep down both knew — a miscarriage. A terrible name for a terrible thing. As if someone could somehow miscarry something so precious. It placed blame when, of course, there was nothing to blame but nature, or Satan himself. Zelda didn’t do half measures, she didn’t have misses. She didn’t miss anything. Faustus knew, and could see her slowly reeling into herself, away from him, and start to plaster on the same face she gave to others. Her public face soon became the only one he ever saw. She never stepped foot in their bedroom again, preferring to sleep in the guest room she had made up for when her sister visited. Eventually she moved back to her family home, away from him. They rarely spoke about it, the incident, even when it had just happened. Zelda drew a line under it, she never wanted to speak of it again. Complete happiness had been theirs, and then it shattered.

They were still married but only in name. She eventually stopped wearing her wedding and engagement rings, and Faustus followed suit. Her hands looked bare without the rings, and he found he stopped looking out of sadness.

—

He glanced at her during the wedding ceremony of Edward and his mortal bride. Surprised that her face was so well schooled in light of the truly shocking event. Zelda, below the surface, was surely furious. He took in her overall appearance and saw that her hands gave her away, white knuckled to the flowers Edward’s bride had handed her. He smiled slightly, pleased to have gained any more knowledge about her. She still kept her distance from him. She engaged in polite conversation during Black Mass, and that was it. Eventually it seemed that most forgot they were married, or, they knew better than to say anything to either of them on the matter. The baby had been a secret, with only their families knowing. It was easy to read the marriage as a mismatch, a mistake, when really, it was quite the opposite.

—

When Edward announces his mortal wife is with child during a sermon at Black Mass, he knows Zelda isn’t present. Surely she knew the news already. She’s still a midwife, despite everything, but even then there’s only so much one can handle. Delivering children with her own two hands for other families was one thing, but delivering one for your family without your own was quite another. Hilda turned back in the pew and made eye contact with Faustus, and offered him the slightest sad smile. He returned it. He always did like Hilda.

—

The news that Edward’s plane went down over the ocean should have buoyed his spirits a bit — he never did like Edward. He was pompous and arrogant but importantly, not as talented as Faustus, who he surpassed for the high priest role. But he knew it would affect Zelda. Zelda’s feelings, as always, were complicated. She condemned Edward and his marriage to the mortal, that much he guessed, but also, he was family, and Spellmans were starting to become scarce. 

His ascension to high priesthood care with a terrible price. The first act was to deliver the news to the Spellmans. Normally he was terribly composed but he wrung his hands as he stood before the Spellman door, not wanting to bring their world crashing down. 

As he raised his hand to knock, she opened the door. He wonders if the wards alerted her, or she felt he was near, as he still did with her. She smiled at him, caught up in the playfulness of the baby at her hip. Her niece. His niece as well. Mortal or not. He missed her smile, and returned it before fixing his face into a firm line, finally remembering what his business was.

As he broke the news to them in the parlor, he saw Zelda’s hands clenched tightly to the babe’s dress, as if assuring herself that at least the baby was alive. The babe was blissfully unaware of the news, and played with a lock of Zelda’s hair. She refused to cry. He knew she wanted to but her will alone overrode her body.

Faustus regretted his next words as they left his lips, but it was his duty to say them. “And as for the child, she should be placed with Diana’s family.”

Zelda looked as though she had been stricken, she reeled, and looked towards Hilda. Zelda nodded, resigned, and in her steady voice said, “Whatever you think is best Father Blackwood.” 

This is not what he expected. They spoke as if this were a relationship between High Priest and coven members, and not family. Zelda refused to acknowledge him as such. Hilda looked at him pleadingly, as if she couldn’t believe that that was that. 

He saw Zelda hand over the baby to Hilda, who escorted him out. And he ever so briefly saw Zelda turn to go up the stairs, her hands clenched into fists, and by the looks of it, her nails would draw blood. 

–

The knock at his office door was hers. He knew it before she entered. It had only been days since the news of Edward and Diana’s passing. Only mere days ahead of passing the baby over to Diana’s family.

Zelda looked unlike herself, or, unlike herself in recent years. Her mask was slipping, it was the Zelda he knew. She’s playing with the rings on her fingers, her ring finger bare as it had been for years. She appears as if she’s been crying, but only to him. He doubts others would see it upon her face. 

As she wrings her hands she speaks, “I would like to raise Sabrina.”

Ah, Sabrina. He couldn’t remember the baby’s name. He doubts he knew it. 

He looks at Zelda, and wants to give her everything. She’s never asked him for anything, nothing like this. His hands are tied though.

He reaches for her hands, they feel cool in his. He hasn’t touched her in years and now he’s suddenly remembering why. It was too hard to be this close to her and not be together. He clears his throat, and runs his thumbs over the back of her hands. “Zelda, you know you can’t keep her. She’s mortal.”

She pulls her hands from his, “A half-mortal. She’s also half-witch.” 

“You have no idea if she’s magical or capable of it. We’ve already arranged handing her over to Diana’s family.” He’s at a loss, and he’s newly furious Edward put him in this position. 

“Then arrange it again.”

He sighs heavily, he knows she wouldn’t have asked, shown herself vulnerable to him if it weren’t important. But he’s caught between her and Satan himself who wanted Sabrina placed with mortals. 

“Zelda, I can’t. It’s done. She’s going.”

She looked unlike how he had expected her to. He expected ferocious, but now she looked resigned and fragile. It pained him to see her like that. She didn’t look up at him.

“Zelda, this is the dark lord’s will. And besides, surely it will be better this way. You and Hilda can continue with your lives, and you won’t have to raise a baby.”

She looked up in a flash, and that’s when he realized how poorly he chose his words. He had meant to say, raise a mortal child, and whatever that would entail, who even knew. 

She closed the space between them, “How can you say that to me? Me? Of all people.”

Faustus felt slow in her presence. It had not ever really been about Sabrina. It was about the baby. Their baby. That they never spoke of. And even now they weren’t, not in words anyway. The heartache written on her face told him though.

She teleported directly out of his office, dematerialized right in front of him. Had it not been the weight of her hands in his he might have assumed she had never actually been there.

The hurt in her eyes told him everything, and how wrong he had been. In letting go of Zelda he had worked diligently away at becoming high priest. Maybe not to this coven but to another. He was sure Satan would reward him for all of his loyalty and dedication. And yet he only rose in the ranks at Edward’s, rather Zelda’s expense. And now his first duty yet again pitted him against Zelda, the only person walking on this earth that he’d do anything for. And yet, he had handled it so poorly. 

He made haste in arriving at the Spellman house, anxious to right his wrong with Zelda. Her well-being and feelings mattered more to him, he would rather face Satan’s wrath than hurt Zelda. How foolish he had been.

He stood at the door knocking. No reply. He waited, and waited. Finally he heard Hilda’s voice behind him, her walking up the drive to the house. “Father Blackwood?” 

“Hilda,” he sighed in relief. “I’m looking for Zelda but it seems she’s not at home.”

Hilda appeared sad, different from her cheery self. 

“What’s happened?” He inquired, taking in the rest of her mood and mannerisms. She held a blanket in her hand.

Through tears Hilda told him how she had just taken Sabrina to Diana’s family, and how Zelda stayed back, unable to go, unable to give up Sabrina.

As he and Hilda walked to the house Faustus became more and more upset with how poorly he handled this. Not just this moment but all of it. He should have fought more, for her, at each step. He had previously followed her lead and without her, he then followed the dark lord’s. When he knew all along what would have been best, what he should have done. 

Hilda opened the door, “Zelds? Are you home? We have a visitor. Sister?”

Upon the threshold he could feel, and he knew Hilda could as well, that Zelda wasn’t there.

“That’s odd, I assumed she would be home. Where else would she be?” She looked nervous, surely Hilda knew the state her sister was in. 

Faustus knew. Of course he did. “I’ll bring her home. Go get Sabrina.” He gripped Hilda’s arm and left.

–

It was easy to make her dark figure out on the cliff. It was an appallingly gorgeous day, spring in full bloom, and the black clad figure of Zelda contrasted heavily against the flowers and tall grasses waving in the breeze. It should have been a grey and dark day given the news. 

She stood at the very edge of the cliff, like she always had, like she did when they were younger. This time it felt different. He cried out her name, wanting to talk to her about this, about all of it, and she turned ever so slowly. Unhappy he was there to witness the tears on her face, her running mascara. 

He couldn’t help but worry that she was going to move — to teleport to the beach, or to jump, he didn’t know. He assumed she wouldn’t jump, but what did he know of her grief, they hadn’t spoken in years. His chest tightens at the thought of losing her. He’s already lost her but to lose her again, for good, over something he had done, he couldn’t bear it. 

She turned away from him, and he was at a loss for words. He couldn’t be sure if she moved closer to the edge, close enough to fall. He wondered if his mind was playing tricks on him. He reacted in a flash.

The only thing he remembers clearly is running as fast as he could as she fell. 

–

He apparated to the beach, where she laid. He thinks — he hopes that she slipped as he screamed a killing curse in her direction. He hopes that it got to her before the fall. Either way she died, by either his hand or hers. The scream and cry he lets out could have surely been heard for miles. Years of pent up rage and grief buried into one moment with her in his arms. This place was not meant to bear such violence. All memories of this place had been happy and pure. But he has little time to grieve, a moment, and no more.

He apparates them to the cemetery in front of the Spellman house. He lays Zelda down beside the Cain Pit as he begins to dig, he’s focused on the task at hand, and all of the other tasks he needs to do to make this work, to make this right. They may be married in name only at this point but he’s determined to become a better husband to Zelda. He had failed, he sees it so clearly now. He assumed she wanted space, and he gave it to her. He always gave her whatever she wanted. But now he realized he needed to fight for her. And that’s what he would do.

He lowers her in the grave, and it’s impossible to remain stoic as he stands over her. He carefully lays her back, and adjusts her hair, her hands, and tears leak from his eyes, unaware he’s crying until his face is wet with tears. He has to work fast, but it’s gut-wrenching to shovel dirt over her wondering if he will ever get to see her again. 

Hilda is nowhere to be found, surely extracting Sabrina from the mortals would be a tough job but he knew she would handle it. With one last look at the house and the fresh dirt grave he left.

– 

He returns an hour later, more tasks completed, and he’s back at the Spellman house. A look towards the cemetery and her grave remains intact. It’s early but still, what he would have given had she already risen. But what else does he have to give?

He knocks at the door and Hilda answers, Sabrina in a bundle in her arms. He breathes a sigh of relief, Sabrina here at the house. But it could be all for naught. Hilda looks at him as if to say, “Where’s Zelda?” But she doesn’t ask. He’s covered in blood and dirt. Dirt she should recognize given her track record. He turns around towards the cemetery and swallows hard, unable to say that he buried her sister, his wife, in the Cain Pit in their yard. Hilda holds a hand to her mouth, eyes filling with tears, and she nods as she steps aside to let him in.

They walk into the parlor, the baby cooing in Hilda’s arms, they sit, staring at one another. Hilda is close to fully sobbing, he can’t believe she’s held it together so well. But he assumes that’s what a parent does in the face of tragedy, keep it together for the child. 

He clears his throat, “May I hold her?” 

Hilda lightly nods and snaps her fingers to clean him up. He looks down, and he’s immaculate. Hilda smiles at him as she lowers the baby into his arms. 

He’s not held a baby, ever. And the weight in his hands is ever so light. Lighter than he imagined. He looks at the babe, her eyes set on him, and she coos at him. His face breaks into a smile despite himself and recent events. He understands now. Understands what he asked of Zelda, to give up this baby. The one she clearly so very wanted. And what they never spoke of. Sabrina wraps a finger around his and he cries.

Hilda, forever an empath, rubs her hand on his back reassuringly. “So you see now?”

He can only nod, while he’s still staring down at his niece, besotted entirely in the span of minutes. His heart hasn’t stopped aching and he rises to look out at the cemetery, hoping for a movement, for a sign. And yet nothing.

–

Hilda eventually takes Sabrina from him, and puts her down for a nap. He paces in front of the grave, night is falling, it’s been hours. He worries his payment isn’t enough, and runs through other witches and warlocks he could slay to pay to bring her back. He thinks he’s settled on just who, when the dirt begins to move. And he leans over the grave and starts to dig. Her pale hand appears amidst the deep black earth and he can’t help but kiss it before he starts to pull her out. 

She’s not been in the Cain Pit to his knowledge but it’s not something Hilda would brag about like Zelda does. She’s quiet as she emerges, and then when she sees its him she lets out a sob. He picks her up and carries her to the house, her hand shielding her face and she curls into his chest, letting herself be carried.

Hilda meets him and guides them up the stairs through her bedroom, to her bathroom. The taps are on full blast, filling the bathtub with hot water and he lays Zelda down in the tub, fully dressed with water flowing over her. She’s not stopped crying since he pulled her from the pit and she turns away from him, from Hilda, as her body moves as she cries. He wants to help but knows it’s private and Hilda has it handled. 

Hilda turns to him before he leaves, “Will you keep an eye on Sabrina? She tends to wake up this time of night. There’s a bottle in the kitchen for her.”

Zelda turns towards them at hearing Sabrina’s name and her crying lessens, if only for a bit. As Faustus turns the doorknob he glances one last time at Zelda and sees that the water has washed away a glamour. She had never taken off her wedding ring, it was there on her finger, just invisible to the eye. He wishes he had known before now. His is laying on his bedside table, glaring at him every morning when he so itched to wear it. But again, he followed Zelda’s lead, or he thought he had. 

–

Sabrina stirs an hour or so later, he’s lost track of time, exhausted from the day. He sat in the parlor and dropped off, not unlike he used to when he would wait on Zelda getting ready back in their youth.

He hears a faint cry and ascends the stairs with the warm bottle in his hands. He follows the cries to Sabrina’s room and she quiets as he approaches. He lifts her ever so delicately out of her crib, the very same one they had in their nursery all those years ago, the Spellman ancestral crib. He cradled her in his arms and she happily sucks at the bottle. She makes tiny satisfied noises as she drinks and he can’t help but smile. 

He doesn’t want to disturb Zelda, she’s most likely tired from the day but he knows that even if she doesn’t want to see him, she would want to see Sabrina. He paces lightly outside of her door and eventually Hilda opens it and invites him in.

Zelda is tucked into bed, a mountain of pillows behind her immaculate hair, she’s pale against her white sheets and white nightgown. She’s freshly scrubbed clean and it seems like she’s glowing in the candlelight at her bedside. She’s quiet, and doesn’t say anything as Faustus hands Sabrina to her. 

She adjusts Sabrina in her arms and the girl once again drops off to sleep. He feels too big for the room, looming over the two of them in bed, Hilda had snuck out during the exchange. Zelda doesn’t look up at him but extends a hand as if to say, “sit.” And so he does. The chair at her bedside moves closer to the bed and he remains quiet.

He hears a faint, “Thank you,” in the dark and quiet room. 

“You’re welcome,” he whispers back. They’ve not had silence stretch between them like this, and he doesn’t want to break the quiet spell with his voice.

“Who did you trade me for?” she asks quietly, he feels her gaze on him. 

He looks up from his feet to meet her eyes, “My father.” He clears his throat and sees her eyes welled with tears.

“You shouldn’t have traded me for him. I’m not worthy of it.” She looked up at the ceiling and sighed.

“Well, he disagreed.” He smirked, “He always liked you, and his time was coming soon. We both knew it. He was happy to offer himself up, actually. He wasn’t the same after mother died anyway.”

It was true. Going to his father first had served him well. He had made it easy, when really he wanted his opinion on who best to take her place. Everything has a price, and if the price for Zelda was his father then so be it. And so it was.

“And for Sabrina? What did you pay for her?” She’s staring down at Sabrina, a faint smile crossed her face. 

“My title. The dark lord needs a priest to actually do his bidding and clearly in my first acts I’ve come up quite short.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, “I know how much it meant to you.”

He stands, and walks over to her, and looked down at the two of them. “No, I’m sorry. For all of it. I shouldn’t have asked you. I should have known. I should have known that she was yours. And I shouldn’t have let you leave all those years ago.”

Sabrina in Zelda’s arms moves ever so slightly and Zelda smoothes the swaddle across her and he sees her wedding ring glint in the low light. She never replaced the glamour.

“Did you mean to fall? Earlier.” He’s curious, and wonders how concerned he should be. 

“I don’t know, but I wanted to.” 

He moves closer and kneels beside her bed, and takes her hand in his, “Please never do it again.” She nods as Faustus presses a kiss to her hand.

–

Time passes and they’re back at the beach. With Sabrina in tow, or rather, between them. Holding her little hand in his, her other hand in Zelda’s as they swing her. She’s laughing as only three year olds can laugh, maniacally and never-ending. She screams, “More swing!” They can’t help but comply to her demands. 

Later as Sabrina lays asleep on Faustus, tired from sandcastle building, he looks up to see Zelda walking towards them from the surf. Glamours again scrubbed clean, and her hand resting on an ever slight curve to her stomach, and their faces break wide with smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> I worked on a bit of this ages ago and finally finished it up. I feel like we could all use a little AU after Part III. Xx


End file.
